


First Lesson

by Bastillia



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Choking, Cock Warming, Cockpit Sex, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Mildly Dubious Consent, Overstimulation, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Threats of Violence, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Humiliation, i don't know how tie fighters fly this seemed good enough, minimal aftercare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22799920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bastillia/pseuds/Bastillia
Summary: Commander Kylo Ren needs a competent officer to accompany him on an important mission, and he has requested you specifically. When he discovers that you don't know how to pilot a TIE fighter, he takes it upon himself to... fix that.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren & Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 69
Kudos: 466





	1. Chapter 1

“Take a fighter. Follow me to the surface.”

The commander strode powerfully over the gangway, dismissing you with a flick of his gloved hand as he approached the yawning cockpit of his TIE silencer. Engineers scrambled aside like rats to sunlight as he moved, conveniently parting a clear path for you to follow the rippling tower of black robes across the platform. You stumbled and jogged slightly to keep up, your gaze shifting nervously along the sinister row of TIE fighters. They sat anchored to the dock, still as a cavalry line at dawn, each black durasteel destrier awaiting its chance to charge into battle. But there was no impending fight here. Why weren’t you taking the command ship?

“Commander. Sir, w-wai-” You collided with an unyielding wall of black, having not been looking where you were going. Ren had stopped and was now turned to look at you, posture stiff, eyes burning with impatience. You straightened sharply and jumped back, shying away from your next words as your cheeks burned under the dark beam of his stare.

“I… I don’t know how to fly one. S-sir.” You managed to say, and your heart plummeted into your stomach with the admission. It seemed childish. Silly. But– what would he think of you now? You had always admired the commander more than you’d ever admit to your peers, and if you were honest, you found him wildly, dangerously attractive. There was something about the way he barely held back. The fire that shone behind his dark eyes like they were the only living part of a face cast in carbonite, that made you dare to wonder what he would look like if he let go. The power that radiated from him was always so visceral, yet restrained. Except, of course, when he had his outbursts. You only ever saw the aftermath: a shredded, glowing control panel, a dazed and heaving officer slumped against the floor after being Force-choked within an inch of death over a particularly inconvenient mistake. You’d be lying if you said such unbridled evidence of his power didn’t stoke a flame of intrigue. And perhaps something else.

You had only recently been promoted to lieutenant general, but you had a feeling Kylo Ren had watched you closely for some time. You saw it in the shift of his eyes whenever you passed him by, the particular burn of his stare when you delivered reports on behalf of your superior general. You’d never known a commander to hold such a piqued interest in the drabble of stormtrooper reconditioning scores. Or why he had to fix his gaze so intently on you that you could swear he was trying to turn your blood molten. 

You knew that you were more than competent in your position, yet you couldn’t quell a desire to impress the commander. Whether it was with your sharp aptitude for command, tactical maneuvers, or securing risky strategic alliances, you always tried to establish presence. To command the room, intimidate both your peers and subordinates with your sharp wits, and earn those rare, blood-branding stares of approval from Kylo Ren when your steel confidence washed a hush over the room. What you’d never admit was how that steel later melted down into gushing whimpers under the forge of your sheets, imagining the kinds of things that your commander might do to you. 

You’d had to forcibly smother your elation when you received the order for your aid specifically on this mission, not even knowing until a few minutes ago that it was you, and _only_ you, that Kylo Ren had requested to come along. It sank like a cold blade into your gut now to know that your ineptitude would make him think less of you. The knife twisted with the realization that you would be left behind on the only opportunity you might ever get to spend some time alone with the commander.

He looked at you for a moment, expression unreadable. How had your command training not included basic piloting by default? A brief flash of anger lit his eyes and set his jaw tight as he thought about whoever’s incompetence he would have to deal with later when he reviewed the training program. But for now, there was no time. 

Your eyes were fixed to the metal grate of the floor, stomach knotting, as you steeled a calm mask over the disappointment that tightened your throat. You began to speak, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. “I’m sorry, Commander. I will inform mission control that you are in need of–” Before you could finish, Kylo Ren clamped his arm around your waist, pulling you firmly to his body as he leveraged his hips in one fluid motion to drag you with him into the small cockpit of the TIE silencer.

Your brain reeled, a small yelp escaping your lips as your ass landed firmly into his lap, one of his arms anchoring you there while his other hand reached to flick a control above him. Before you could stammer out the question of what the fuck he was doing, the cockpit was already hissing closed around you both. 

“First lesson." 

Your pulse was a flurry. He began to flip the controls absently, looking easily over your head as you awkwardly adjusted yourself on his thighs. The space was so small, there was absolutely no position you could assume that didn’t involve your ass planted into his hips, your back against his broad torso, and your calves draped around either side of his ridiculously long legs. Your head spun. The thrusters hummed to life. Fuck. Everything was moving too fast. His gloved hand began to point individually at each control he had just engaged.

"Auxiliary." 

His voice was dead even as he pointed to the first switch on your left, the movement of his arm making his chest ripple under your shoulder blade. Your brain was a mess of thrill and panic. Was this really happening right now? Heat flowed in a river down your spine and pooled in the roiling cauldron of your belly. Whether it wanted to wash you away, or pull you in like a rip current to his body, you couldn’t decide. His hand moved to a lower control panel where the second switch sat, affording you little time to take in what he was saying. 

"Compressor." 

You tried hard to focus on his words, blinking the spinning confusion out of your eyes as you dumbly studied the path his hand had just taken. You blinked again, hard. Auxiliary. Compressor. Okay. You forced yourself to bid the controls to memory, trying to catch up as he moved along. Four adjacent switches to your right had been next. 

"Ignition," 

His gloved finger drew languidly against the curved switch in a way that suddenly made your skin light up against every solid line of his body pressed flush to yours. Your thighs tensed. Heat climbed your neck as you struggled to hold onto a fragile thread of focus. 

"Thrusters." 

He gestured to the final three buttons. Fucking _breathe_. Ignition, thrusters. Okay. Simple enough. You sobered yourself sternly and nodded your understanding as you flicked your gaze along the control path that started the engines, internally repeating it several times as your heartbeats became distinguishable again. It was quick. Concise. Fitting, you thought, for a state-of-the-art starfighter prototype that might need to get airborne in a hurry. It was certainly far less brain-scrambling than the orchestrations you’d seen performed upon the control panels of freighters to wrangle them towards liftoff. Why don’t they label anything in those damn ships anyways?

"Now,” Ren’s hands gripped your hips, instantly shattering your moment of composure. Stars, why did he have this effect on you? And why did a part of you never want it to end? He adjusted your seat, pressing you slightly straighter against him, and you could feel the warm, solid contour of his abdomen flex under your spine. You swallowed hard.

“Steering is intuitive.” His palms smothered the backs of your hands as he picked them up, guiding them to grasp the vertical steering grips. Your blood felt uncomfortably hot in your veins. He kept his hands wrapped firmly over top of yours, arms encircling you like a gigantic fucking scaffold, coaxing you to lift the handles very slightly upwards. The craft lurched to life in response, and you were suddenly thankful for his hands holding yours steady as your heart threatened to explode from your ribs. 

It _was_ intuitive, you’d give him that, even if your intuition felt starkly absent from your brain at the moment. The body of the craft lifted smoothly, almost sentiently, with the subtle upward press of the handles. Still, the sudden g-force of liftoff sank you firmly into the commander’s lap, amplifying an alarming and far too pleasant stir that agitated the pit of your belly. 

You breathed slowly, trying to stay as still as possible on top of him, your brain still coming to grips with what the fuck was occurring right now. You thought maybe you’d had a dream like this once. Come to think of it, the enigmatic commander had starred in many of your most pleasant dreams – with or without the mask. Oh, _stars_. You screwed your eyes tight, inwardly cursing your useless fucking brain. Did you really have to think about that right now? You were definitely blushing. A puff of breath hit the back of your neck. Wait- Did he just chuckle? 

You didn’t have time to figure out the answer as his gloved hands flexed over the top of yours and your eyes flew open, finding that the fighter was now hovering a comfortable distance from the hangar floor. He pressed your joined hands forward, and the ship responded gorgeously, accelerating towards the mouth of the docking bay in a smooth departure that made your veins flutter with a thrill of adrenaline. Vacuous darkness swallowed the viewport as the _Supremacy_ was left swiftly in your wake, and you released a lungful of air you didn’t know you had been holding. An unexpected calmness suddenly blanketed you as everything fell to the periphery. As your wide eyes adjusted to the void, a spattering of stars slowly blinked into view, decorating the expanse. It was… silent. Still. Breathtaking. 

Ren pulled the grips under your hands back like the reins of an obedient steed, and the craft responded as such. The only indication that the fighter had stilled was the slightly quieter hum of the idling ion thrusters vibrating softly through the air of the cockpit. Your respite was brief. The tranquility of space was magnifying your far-from-tranquil realization that you were now decidedly, irreversibly _alone_ with the commander, and your insides folded in half. 

You hardly dared to breathe, let alone move, your senses suddenly augmented and trained sharply onto Kylo Ren as you sat pressed into his lap. His _lap_. Maker, have mercy. Your clean-pressed uniform suddenly felt tight and stifling around your neck, and you swallowed thickly. 

“Take over." 

He spoke curtly into the silence, almost making you jump as the baritone rumbled close to your ear. Stars, everything he said was a fucking command. You couldn’t deny how much you’d always enjoyed the rich color of his natural, unmodulated voice, taking secret reverence in the way he could paralyze a room with it. Nor could you ignore the way that every word he spoke was now having the opposite effect, riling up that dismayingly persistent heat between your legs. 

He slid his hands off of yours, leaving you in full command of the sleek starfighter. Nerves needled a patchwork in your gut as you stared disconnectedly at your own bare hands gripping the controls. They might as well have been someone else’s entirely. Two palms settled over the tops of your thighs, and the gesture pierced all the way to your brain.

By the void, calm the fuck down. You grounded yourself sternly, tightening your grip around the contoured handles and forcing yourself to feel their texture, the ridges that dug into your skin, the tension that rippled up your arms and into your shoulders as you squeezed them. Breathe. There was a reason you’d been promoted so fast: it was your aptitude toward levelness and situational control under pressure. You could do this. Just… treat it like another test. Taking a steadying breath and fixing your brow in determination, you pressed the grips forward. 

If you thought takeoff was intuitive, now that you somewhat had your frayed wits about you, this was like an extension of your own consciousness. The silencer handled like a dream, and you quickly got the hang of its basic movements, almost forgetting your strange predicament as you took surprising delight in steering the agile craft through the vacuum of space. Kylo Ren hardly moved beneath you. He seemed to be letting you feel the ship out on your own, but his hands occasionally flexed over the curve of your thighs, his fingers splaying into a wide grip that pressed heat into your veins. An alarming reminder, each time, that he was paying attention. Always paying attention.

You cut the silencer back towards the _Supremacy_ after a short while, and were surprised to note that the stifling mega class dreadnought seemed much… smaller, from out here. It felt strange, looking upon the massive vessel that encompassed your entire life, whose halls and chambers you had meticulously memorized, as if it were no more than a distant memory. The perspective settled a quiet feeling inside you that you couldn’t quite formulate.

Also in view, and framing the silhouette of the star destroyer impressively, was your ultimate destination. A large planet, twinkling with tiny rivers of light between clouds, and crowned in a halo of white flame from this system’s central star. The planet would be the site of your mission, which, you noted – the commander still hadn’t even briefed you on. You funneled the nervous pang at the thought into determination as you caressed the controls again, considerably braver now about handling the craft.

In a moment of spontaneity, you locked the arches of your feet under Ren’s calves and accelerated sharply, whipping the silencer into a tight barrel roll. A breathy, delighted laugh swelled in your chest before you could catch it as you righted the ship to its initial orientation again.

"Good,” Ren murmured into your hair, a large hand sliding up to your belly as you reined the ship smoothly to a halt. He pressed you slightly tighter to him with a splayed palm, his strong nose grazing your ear, and the responding thrill between your thighs set your brain back to spinning. You suddenly became aware of a firm knot under your seat that you hadn’t noticed before, and your breath stopped. You’d been so distracted maneuvering the ship, you couldn’t be sure. You cocked your hips slightly, daring to shift against him, and with the movement it was undeniable: Kylo Ren was hard as a rock. 

You gasped, and the moment you tensed, a gloved hand snaked up to slam into your throat and pull you roughly back against a solid chest, breath hot and immediate in your ear. 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed…” His voice was dark and dangerous as his free hand slid to your inner thigh, gripping the sensitive flesh there, your airway closed tight. You trembled, pulse galloping, as a spear of adrenaline ignited each of your most primal instincts at once. 

“…How you can hardly keep those eyes to yourself around me.” His lips were warm against the shell of your ear as his nose grazed the baby hairs at your temple, the feeling adding a confusing tingle to the sharp claws of terror that gripped you. Your pulse was deafening, and you struggled to find either breath or coherence under his iron grip. His hand on your throat loosened slightly with a creak of leather, and the sweetness of air crashed into your lungs.

“I could say the same,” you breathed without thinking, suddenly wondering if you actually had a deathwish. His hand flexed threateningly on your throat and you flinched, but he simply breathed a dark chuckle into the hollow of your ear. Oh. That made you fucking shiver. 

“Observant.” He slowly ground his hips up into you, more or less fucking his prominent erection against your ass. Needles of fear laced confusingly into a wash of desire as a soft noise escaped you, and you bit your lip to catch it in its tracks as he continued. “But I know every thought you’ve ever had about me, _lieutenant_.” Oh, stars. Fuck. You knew he’d paid attention to you, but not that closely.

“It’s pathetic, really… ” He continued to grind torturously against you, his broad hand pinning your thigh the same way a predator might hold down a piece of live prey that it wants to toy with for a while before killing. “…The way you try so _hard_ to impress me.” His growl bottomed out on the emphasis with a decisive roll of his hips that sent an electric shock careening to your core. You squirmed against him, but his grip on your neck and leg had you on an axis that allowed precious little freedom. His hips continued their disciplined pace as he spread his knees slightly, forcing your own to follow, and his thumb traced electricity into the tender patch of thigh just below your most intimate parts. You clenched at the closeness of it.

“But…” he purred, tone shifting slightly.

“The things that cross your mind at night?” You froze with dread, wishing the ice in your spine would somehow percolate into the space around you, freeze it into stasis so that he wouldn’t continue with his next words. But Kylo Ren was a furnace, burning the unlimited fuel of your fear, and he rumbled on. 

“When you touch that wet little cunt, and think about me?” He lifted his palm away briefly - the predator’s illusion of mercy - before delivering a hard, stinging smack straight to your inner thigh. Your cunt convulsed. 

“ _Filthy_.”

A silent pause filled the cockpit, allowing both the word and the impact to sink into your nerves before he slowly circled his glove across the tingling flesh under his hand. Your bones went gelatinous, and, stars, you _whimpered_. It was a sound so foreign to even your own ears, that you startled yourself. 

His straining cock pulsed against the curve of your ass, and he swore darkly, sliding his hand on your thigh up to cup your sex through the fabric of your pants. You were already wet and aching, you could feel it, but the slight pressure of his hand over your sensitive heat drove your need to a frenzy. Another whine leaked unbidden from your lips. 

“Tell me, lieutenant, how _do_ you prefer me?” His voice was cruel and dark, drawing out your torment as he began to tease your slit with a pressure so light you thought you might die on the spot. 

“With, or without the mask?” He pressed down, rolling his forefinger over your clit in a firm motion that sent sparks into your brain. Your mouth fell open in an obscene moan that echoed around the cockpit. Kylo Ren stiffened, tightening his grip on your throat and stilling the pressure on your aching bud.

He didn’t have to say anything for you to know in your gut that an answer was required. Your stomach quivered. This was his game, and you were going to have to play at it if you wanted any of your deepest, most secret desires to come to fruition now. And stars, you wanted it _bad_. You found a few breaths, collecting fragments of your voice. 

“Any w-way you’d have me, C-commander.” Your voice was hardly intact, but you managed to breathe the words out through your daze of terror and need, finally pushing your own ass back into the motion of his hips. He released a warm huff of breath into your ear, seemingly pleased. Thank the Maker. 

“That’s right.”

His soft hair dusted your ear as he dipped to latch a hot kiss into your neck, pulling your head slightly aside for better access. His tongue was molten and wet against your skin, and the feeling sank straight to your core. You reeled and whined as he sucked a bruise into your throat, taking his time tasting you, his hand over your pants drawing an embarrassing volume of wetness from your aching cunt already. You dropped your hands beside you and sunk your nails into the fabric over his thighs, need overflowing from your skin and into his body. 

Kylo Ren sucked a breath through his teeth and slipped the hand on your throat upwards, gripping your jaw instead and pushing the leather pad of his forefinger through your lips. You accepted it a little too eagerly, sucking it in delicately and running your tongue across the ridges in the supple material as you relished the expensive taste. He hummed and slid a second thick digit into your mouth as his lips and teeth continued to worry the tender skin of your neck, and you were sure you would bear the dark purple evidence of his possession for at least a week. You didn’t care. 

His ministrations had your body pliant and wanting in no time, and your thighs had involuntarily begun to relax, falling wider around each side of his lap even as the sharp edge of a control panel dug into your leg. You felt the rigid hilt of the saber on his hip as well, a sensation that paralyzed you for a moment with a new spike of fear and thrilling desire. He ascended from your neck with a sharp nip. 

“So eager, lieutenant.” He clicked his tongue once and landed a sharp spank straight to the mound of your pussy. It made you jump, and clench hard with a small, leather-muffled yelp. He deftly switched hands, removing his fingers from your mouth as his other hand closed around your neck. His moistened digits dipped below the waistband of your pants, and you felt his own breaths quicken underneath your shoulders, exciting you. The smooth, warm leather slid easily down your folds, drawing a gasp from you as he collected and spread your arousal. Now, this, you had _definitely_ dreamed about before. He circled slowly across your clit, slicking it over in a motion that sparked white ecstasy through your nerve endings, and you whined pathetically. 

“What would your superiors think,” Kylo Ren’s deep, mocking voice dripped through you as he slid one finger down to tease your entrance. Your hips bucked, trying in vain to draw him in. “If they knew what a desperate little whore you are for your commander?" 

Your brain stuttered then. An involuntary smirk pulled at your lips as you conjured the image of your superior general, and how his eyes always seemed to darken when they wandered a little too far down your uniform. You didn’t consider the fact that your mind was on full display to Ren before the brat center of your brain produced one clear thought. 

_ They’d envy my commander. _

You bit your tongue hard the second the thought formed, as if you could banish it with the flash of pain, hoping desperately that he hadn’t read your mind. But the way that Ren’s whole body went rigid suggested otherwise. Maker damn your smart ass. 

His hand fisted into your hair, wrecking your neat bun, and he wrenched your head to the side, forcing you to look up at him. Your brows knitted together in pain, but you dared not whine about it as you met his stare. His eyes were black saucers, clouded with such a tenebrous fury and lust that it made your walls flutter in time with your stomach. 

"Is that so?” The ice in his voice squeezed your veins. 

Gone was all that confidence that you prided yourself on in your profession, all the poise and tact and sharpness of wit. It slipped as easily as water through your fingers now as you drowned in the inky depths of his stare, fear anchoring your words to your diaphragm with no means of escape. 

Ren studied you, embers flaring in the pits of those live irises, framed by the beautiful stone hearth of his face. He moved your head back and forth a bit by his grip in your hair. You winced, but your muscles might as well have been liquid, unable to resist him in the slightest. He was testing your pliancy, considering. 

“Open your mouth." 

There was no warmth, no tease behind the words, and as if they flowed straight into your neurons directly, you obeyed. Your jaw fell open, your pink tongue pushing slightly against the pillow of your lower lip as it rested over your bottom teeth. He spat into your mouth, holding your stare in the tight space as… _Oh_. He sank two thick fingers straight into your soaking core, stretching you full, holding them rooted inside you. You might as well have been vibrating. 

"Swallow." 

The command was deadly. You snapped your jaw shut and complied, heart thrumming with fear and a hot, blooming need originating from the delicious ache that now filled your walls but refused to move. You whined, trying weakly to shift your hips for any amount of friction on his hand, but his hold on you tightened, immobilizing you. 

"Impudence will get you nothing.” He uttered warningly, never breaking your stare as his fingers began to pump slowly, agonizingly inside of you. You could feel yourself dripping around him now as the ridged leather of his gloves did something delicious to your walls. “Don’t you want to come, little whore?" 

You were putty in his lap. "Yes, Commander, sir.” You managed to groan out quietly, embracing the pain that screamed through your scalp. His plump, gorgeous lips were parted slightly, a signal of desire to underlie the tempest of his stare. You relaxed more into his grip, hoping your show of submission would drive him just a little more wild, just a little closer to… _Yes_.

He yanked you closer and stroked his hot tongue into your mouth in a fucking vulgar kiss that spun your brain like a top. You suppressed a sigh as the taste of him filled you, his plush lips divine and remarkably soft against your mouth as you melted into the heat of his possessive kiss. He jerked you away by your hair long before you’d had your fill of his taste, a thin string of spit connecting you as you squeaked a pathetic sound. Your disappointment was fleeting, though, because his fingers were now curling faster against a heavenly spot inside of you that was beginning to coil you tight. 

“Then be good." 

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, bit down, and nodded as well as you could with his fingers rooted into your follicles. He watched the ecstasy blossom across your face as his thumb began to pass in quick circles over your sensitive clit. A cry fell from your lips as your pleasure began to overtake you, his fingers building you towards a crescendo that threatened to split you clear in half with a galaxy between. You didn’t even have to try to keep your mind blank now as he consumed your every nerve ending in rippling pleasure, and soon you were barreling towards the event horizon of climax with every stroke of his digits and every slick pass of leather over your delicate pearl of nerves. Sparks flowed like hot plasma to your extremities as your walls began to flutter tight. You whined the warning of it as your brows drew together in restraint, pleading silently for the commander to send you halfway to hyperspace with the orgasm that teetered in your core. 

"That’s right, cum for me, little whore.” His voice was harsh and cruel and delicious and everything your reeling brain needed to send you barreling over the precipice. Your orgasm split you, blanching your vision as your walls slammed down around his fingers and you sobbed out the waves of your release. He didn’t slow, drawing out your climax to an impossible length as each clench sent you spinning and wailing again. Ren groaned and cursed under his breath as he watched you come apart, leaning on the familiar edge of desperate self control as his stiff cock twitched violently under the confines of his trousers.

He slowed and withdrew his hand from your pants, allowing you to come down with shallow breaths. He brought the hand up to taste you slowly from the glistening leather of his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, and the sight made your insides combust. He hummed a low, appreciative sound before shoving the cum-slicked digits roughly into your mouth. The sweet tang of your juices flooded your senses as he sat you back up against him, such that you faced the viewport again. Impossible as it realistically was, it suddenly felt as if the entire _Supremacy_ may as well have just watched you cum like a trained whore around Kylo Ren’s fingers. The thought tickled your belly as you laved your tongue over his glove, still warm from your cunt, your body thrumming with the high of post-orgasmic ecstasy as you diligently cleaned the ridges. Your insatiable pussy clenched hard when you felt his length grind against your ass, reminding you of its presence, and you suddenly ached to be filled again. You whimpered into his hand as you rolled your hips.

“You want my cock?” His voice was ragged in your ear, hardly restrained as he fucked his bulge against you. You nodded with an obscene whine, clutching the sides of his thighs and using them as leverage to grind yourself into his throbbing length. He cursed. 

“Filthy girl.”

Ren released you, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and hair, and you collapsed back against his chest, panting. He shoved at the waistband of your pants, and with a thrill, you lifted your hips as far as you could to allow him to yank them down around your thighs, panties and all. 

He propped you forward slightly, bringing a hand behind you to wrestle with the clasp of his own trousers. He unleashed his cock and sat you back over it, so that it rested thickly between the flesh of your thighs, flush with the swollen line of your wet slit. You looked down and gulped. Stars, he was big. Not that you expected any different – you’d be the first to admit that this man _carried_ himself like he was packing. Still, you couldn’t suppress a twinge of nerves as you looked down at the fat head of him, swollen beautifully at the end of a thick shaft and leaking a bead of pre cum between your thighs. He rocked his hips up, and the thick, velvety length of his cock parted your lips, coating the top of his shaft in your wetness as it slid against your tender folds.

You whined, your walls screaming to be filled, to be stretched, and you strained your pelvis down towards his dick, but the angle was all wrong for you to have any control. His glove snaked into your hair and fisted it roughly, yanking you immobile again as you gasped. 

“Beg." 

Your pussy throbbed, dignity a distant echo in your brain as you keened and clenched around nothing. You’d never been known to beg for anything in your life, but with the way that every nerve ending in your body felt like it was curling towards him, trying to take root, to feel him in every way possible, you were sure you’d do anything to earn his cock now.

"P-please-” it came out in a whisper, your voice absent from your chest, and he jostled you by your scalp sharply. Pain shot through your nerves, somehow only kindling the flames of need that were licking up your spine and you yelped, the roughness punching your voice back into you.

“I can’t fucking hear you.” He growled through his teeth, breath crackling in his throat as he fought his own restraint. The sound shot a thrill through you. Oh, you were gone. 

“Ple-ase, s-sir, _please_ f-fuck me,” you moaned louder, and your voice sounded foreign through the ring in your ears. Your thighs strained against the hobble of your waistband as your body tried to spread and arch back for him like a bitch in heat. Thoroughly carried away, heady pleas continued to pour from your mouth. “I n-eed your cock in me, Com-commander, _please_.” He huffed a pleased sound, pulling you back until his lips grazed your ear. 

“Good girl.”

He released your hair and gripped your hips hard, lifting you up just enough for the head of his cock to slide down towards your entrance. You found yourself pressing your palms eagerly into the seat, pushing yourself up to give your commander better access. You tipped your hips until you felt the swollen head of him perfectly align with your soaked entrance, and– Oh, _fuck_.

Even thoroughly lubricated with your own cum, it was a tight fit as he began to sink you down. You whimpered as the angle forced you to take the entirety of him, struggling to relax your tight walls through your descent. You were sure you’d never taken a man nearly this big, sure that your body might break open around him, and yet you were determined to withstand his challenge. He hissed slowly through his teeth as he buried into you inch by steady inch, until you finally sat flush with his lap again, keening from the pleasant sting of complete fullness. 

Ren choked on a stifled groan as you reached the hilt of him, his grip bruising your waist as he held you there for a moment. He shifted you both forward, allowing him to brace you up with his arms, and pumped his hips once slowly to test the position. The feeling of his thick cock sliding tight against your walls until it pressed your cervix was as obscene as it was delicious, and as he buried himself again, you couldn’t hold back the wanton moan that tore itself from your diaphragm. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” You heard Ren mutter raggedly behind you as he adjusted his grip. He began to rut his hips up into you at a punishing tempo, and your thoughts evaporated as his cock slammed over and over into the epicenter of your core. You cried out, voice hitching from his pace and ferocity, as you wildly clutched at the side of a control panel for stability. Somehow the pain of taking him over and over began to morph into blinding oblivion, and the viewport swam before your eyes as you lost yourself in the furious rhythm of his cock. 

Ren grabbed your neck and arched you back against his chest, slowing his pace enough to allow shards of air to fight back into your starved lungs. The slower thrusts, the slick feeling of every ridge and vein of him, sent a spike of voltage through your limbs that jump started your senses again. 

“Was I wrong to assume you could handle me, lieutenant?” He purred breathily as he slowed to nearly a stop, though clearly not intending to cease his torment altogether. You whined your dissent and tried to roll your hips down into him, hoping to fuck yourself on his cock, to feebly prove that you could take him. “No?” His voice dripped warm with mockery. “We’ll see." 

His grip anchored you fast. You gasped, almost panicking for a moment as a foreign pressure began to flit and squeeze around your clit. It wasn’t his hand. One was controlling your neck, the other a vice on your hip. You didn’t have much time to register the fact that he was using the Force until his hips were moving again, his cock filling you whole at a steady pace as that strange and wonderful pressure swirled faster at your bud. 

Then suddenly his hand was closing like a leather serpent around your neck, slowly, expertly constricting your pulse. A primal burst of adrenaline blinded you for a moment. _He could kill you_. It rang between your ears, imploring you to resist, but your body was so pliant, so wholly under the spell of submission, that the thrill melted into something warmer. Something perhaps like trust, but with a much sharper edge as it cut a path through your veins. He squeezed your arteries steadily until your hearing began to fog and inky motes crossed your vision. Pressure swelled in your head, the cockpit beginning to drift away around you until all that grounded you to reality was the steady pumping of the cock inside your cunt and the Force at your clit shooting effervescent waves of pleasure into your darkening brain. 

Just as the cusp of total unconsciousness began to seduce you, the pressure vanished. Ren slammed his length into you, and you gulped a massive breath of air as the Force jetted against your clit. Your orgasm crested hard, and shot you over the edge faster than you’d have ever thought possible as he held you steady and pounded into your core. You screamed as your release tore through your body in a perfect harmonic overtone to the oxygen flooding back into your brain, and the combined relief washed such a powerful bliss through your nerves that in that moment, you felt as if the very fabric of space could part for you.

"That’s it, _fuck_ , good _fucking_ girl.” Ren’s snarls were filthy and delicious in your ear as he continued to fuck you hard, the pace of his cock refusing to let your body come down from the orgasm. You keened and moaned in an incoherent stupor as he slammed up against a spot inside you that was somehow, impossibly, pushing you towards the edge again already. Another orgasm ripped through you, this one singeing your nerve endings as you felt his thrusts become unsteady. Ren bellowed through gritted teeth as he came, cock pulsing inside you while your quaking walls milked him through his release. He pumped you slowly through your aftershocks, tensing with each clench of your cunt around his oversensitive dick, until your bodies stilled in a tranquil beat of silence and shared breathing.

You didn’t know at what point he had wrapped both of his arms around you, but you snapped to the realization that Kylo Ren was now holding you tight, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he came down through shuddering breaths. You blinked, slowly bringing the geometric planes of the viewport back into blurred focus, and then beyond it, the distant _Supremacy_. 

It hung suspended like a leviathan in the void, a staunch and silent voyeur to the star-shattering sequence of undoing and accretion that you had just experienced here at the hands and cock of your inscrutable commander. You couldn’t be totally sure this hadn’t all been another dream, but the feeling of him now was so real, so warm, so human in the depth of his breathing and the slight dampness of his skin against yours, that you were sure no version of Kylo Ren you’d ever conjured in your dreams could feel like this. 

You didn’t move, didn’t dare, but simply felt him encase you, afraid to break whatever spell was holding you in this moment. In a place where maybe, _maybe_ , you could pretend that you weren’t just a rank. Or a strategist, or a minuscule pawn in the grander scheme of First Order rule. Here you were a body, yes, but a body that intertwined with something beyond material. Something that laced gently with the threads of humanity behind the frozen carbonite mask of Kylo Ren, which now seemed to thaw for the smallest moment as he held you wrapped in an embrace that could almost be mistaken for tenderness. 

Almost. 

Your high descended on clipped wings as he finally stirred, settling colder in your stomach as he loosened his arms and you waited for whatever would happen now. He was still inside of you, and half-hard at that, but even so, you felt filled to the brim with his cum and stretched tight around him. Your body bemoaned the idea of vacancy, but if time was up, then it was up. You weren’t about to push it. You started to move, shifting to lift off of him.

“No. Stay.” He murmured against your neck, and you almost questioned whether your brain had shorted out and you’d misheard him. He coaxed you back against his chest with a press of his palm, and you hesitantly allowed the gentleness of it to malleate your rigid spine. Your brain misfired again as you felt the soft brush of his thumb running slowly up and down the contour of your ribs. Your pulse skipped into your throat. You didn’t dare allow your body to think that this was anything akin to intimacy. You had been starved of it for so long that if you let it believe so, you might fully lose sight of the fine line you were now walking. And if you fell, it would be straight onto a saber’s edge. The vibration of your body fighting against its own tension ricocheted to the walls of your pussy, and as you squeezed him slightly, you felt his cock already beginning to harden again inside you. Your breath hitched. 

Kylo Ren made no acknowledgment of the exchange as he peeled his face from your neck, straightening slightly. He reached his long arms around you to grip the controls of the silencer, but didn’t move the craft. He sat still. Contemplative, perhaps. 

You were leaned back against his shoulder, forehead resting just by his jaw, and you dared to let your face tuck gently towards him. You waited for a reaction – to be pushed away, for some signal that you’d overstepped. But he was still. You cautiously nestled the bridge of your nose against his neck, feeling the steady thrum of pulse there, the soft currents of breath that drifted from his nose down to trickle across your skin. You tried to memorize the warm, masculine scent of him that drifted up from his collar, magnified by body heat, stirred by the gentle tide of his breathing. Oh, how long it had been since you’d had this… 

The oxytocin-riddled valleys of your mind echoed with a sudden and deadly urge to tilt up and press a soft kiss under his jaw, but a harness of fear held you still as you remembered your place, and the fragility of whatever this was. Instead, you squeezed his cock with your warmth again, a flame of lust already flickering against your belly and providing a welcome distraction from the confusion that was drawing and quartering your brain. 

Ren’s chest swelled with a soft “mmph” as he seemed to come out of his own trance of thought. You wondered if he’d even been listening to yours at all. He rocked his hips once, the slide of his stiffening cock making your walls leak, and you sighed. Yes. This was fine. This was simple. He pressed his hands forward, beginning to guide the craft towards the twinkling planet in no particular hurry. You gripped his thighs and rolled your hips, squeezing and riding him slowly so as not to break his concentration as he guided you both through the silent expanse of space. 

Yes, it was best just to enjoy the simplicity of this. Of two bodies exorcising your respective tensions through the physical release you could pull from one another. And soon it would be over, and the chaos would resume around you, and you’d carry on like your spirits hadn’t just fused like two atoms – for a microsecond – within a supernova of passion in the middle of space. And that was fine. That was for the best. 

So you fixed yourself on that tangible goal of physical pleasure, on the rhythm of your hips, on keeping your commander nice and hard and ready for whatever he decided was next. 

Because if you were good enough, then maybe. 

Just maybe. 

You’d earn yourself a second lesson.


	2. Rough Landing

There was plenty to like about being in space. For one, it was absolutely quiet. 

Perfectly soundless. Unfathomably endless. In a way, the void between the stars had always been your perfect aegis; a blank slate to nurture everything you’d hoped to become. It held power in its silence, and possibility. It was calm, dark, vast-- it was home, for as much or little as you knew about the word. 

If you thought about it, living aboard the roving flagship of the First Order had always given your life more or less a perfect structure. Most of the time, you didn’t even mind the predictability of it. Your days were purposeful and productive. If, sometimes, just a little boring. But, that was okay--you liked the quiet.

And you were never  _ ever  _ taking it for granted again.

“Stop moving.” Kylo Ren’s voice broke through the growing rumble of the hull. It was only the sensation of gloved fingers tightening down into your hip bones that finally alerted you to the fact that you were squirming. Again. You grimaced.

"I'm trying." 

Friction from the gathering atmosphere punched the craft into a sharp rattle, and your heart struck your sternum as the controls lurched underneath your palms. Your fingers cinched down tight, the lack of circulation in your knuckles settling into a dull throb as you continued to wring the contoured grips, as if you could strangle some desperately needed assistance out of them that way.

Fuck.

Breathe.

You could do this, you just had to stay calm--think about home, about the tedium of whatever meeting was probably going on right now. About how all eyes would be on you if you were there, about the dumbstruck look on General Quinn’s face when you presented that fucking perfect dossier you’d compiled on some key New Republic official he’d been trying to track down for months.

Yes, think about that.

Not about the sweat beginning to break out across your skin, the unnerving rattling around you growing louder and louder. Not about what was still sheathed inside your twitching cunt, stretching you, demanding that your body yield to its presence.

Warm echoes of your last orgasm flared up with another clattering vibration of the atmosphere. It felt almost trapped within you, an electric refrain to the adrenaline melody that pounded your veins now. Your floor muscles quivered tight with it, eliciting an approving twitch from within your walls as Ren’s fingers flexed into the bruises on your hips. 

It was incredible, really. How time had begun to feel almost obsolete until now. It had passed abstractly in the quiet serenity of space as you’d sat filled to your limit, feeling nothing but the commander, his breathing, the omnipresent ache of his cock. Your world nothing but an aroused haze-- stirred every so often by a subtle buck of his hips, a kiss to your neck, hot breath in the hollow of your ear whispering  _ don’t move, don’t you fucking move. Good girl _ . 

Your thoughts snapped back to the present with a vaguely wistful pang as the hull gave another violent shake. 

Atmospheric entry. What was that, week five? Six? Of the TIE pilot training program? It was on the phase-3 test, you were certain. And you’d put credits down that none of the novice pilots had ever experienced the added curriculum of a cock shoved inside of them.

A warning squeeze stilled another involuntary shift of your hips.

You gritted your teeth against your discomfort, instead trying to let the adrenaline form a whetstone to sharpen your senses.

Breathe.

You could do this. You were way beyond just some novice trooper, you were a fucking lieutenant general of the First Order. And what did you do to earn that rank? You adapted. So, fucking  _ adapt _ .

A jolt slammed the craft, and your muscles locked up as the head of Ren’s cock speared something tender and abused deep inside you. The ship squirreled under your grip, leaving you paralyzed as the movement of it set off every panic alarm in this new and untested region of your brain. Without missing a beat, two huge, leather-encased palms came up to wrap over your shaking hands, steadying you with remarkable certainty as they coaxed the vessel back under control. 

“Focus, lieutenant." There was almost an amused purr in Ren’s throat, his voice low and close, utterly lacking in any kind of concern. Your pulse gradually came back down, and with it, your fear curled into a flicker of annoyance. If he was going to mock you, he could at least use your proper title.

You know.

The one you’d worked your ass off for.

The drag of fingertips across the bare skin of your upper thighs jolted you. Your body felt hyper-sensitized, like the sudden touch ignited a cascade of fission that couldn’t seem to find equilibrium anywhere. It fractured your brittle composure in two, just as the roaring blaze around the viewport flared again with a powerful tremor that kicked your heart back up in a sudden panic. 

Sweat lined your palms, adrenaline congealing and turning to acid in your veins. You felt your nerve slip.

"Com-commander, s-sir, I--" 

A hum. “Control yourself.”

It was only two words, but each one cut through your rising panic like a blaster shot to the sternum, rattling you to a realization. 

Control. 

That was the test all along. He’d laid it right out in front of you, challenged you to a game with incredibly fucked up stakes, and he was drawing his hand. Taking a seat at a proverbial Sabacc table, stretching out his chest and waiting for you to either bet up, or lose your nerve. The ante was rising, piece by piece as he silently tested the parameters of your breaking point. 

But he wouldn’t find it. Not like this.

Fresh determination fixed your grip around the shaking controls. It was even enough to keep you from reacting this time when a dull pain lanced under your skin, his teeth catching a tender spot where he had marked your neck some time before. He growled. You tucked that card up your sleeve. 

“Decelerate.”

His tone had shifted quieter in a way that made your ears prick, snapping your attention away from the dull ache of your insides. It sort of stunned you, actually, into something of a quiet curiosity. 

His hand reached around you to swipe at a holopad on the console. An altimeter blinked to life, just before the soft heat of his lips returned to your ear.

“Drop to this zone.” He pointed to a region on the display. “Remain there until we get closer." 

Remnants of panic still swam somewhere in your blood, but you managed to draw a careful breath and nod your understanding. Your ante was still on the table, you told yourself. But perhaps he’d decided that challenging you could wait. For now.

Refocusing, you caressed the controls. The ship banked beautifully,  _ intuitively _ at your will, before lurching a final time as the thrusters hit a stable layer of atmosphere. 

Beneath you, clouds floated in gossamer ribbons over the calm air, as tattered and thankful for its mercy as you felt. Farther down, the dim moonlight breathed monochrome shapes into being, half-swallowed by the murky vapor of shadow between them. Droplets condensed on the viewport as you dropped through the thin cloudbank, skittering shyly outwards and allowing the shapes to solidify into the oppressive grid of a cityscape.

Slowly, you could begin to make out vague details. Industrial sectors, shipyards, scrappy comms towers. The occasional twinkle of speeder headlights creeping between dilapidated buildings, and--

Your gaze snapped back to the holopad on the nav console, a deft swipe of your finger bringing up your coordinates. The planetary code blinked neutrally back at you, but the unmistakable string of numbers harpooned you with a bolt of clarity that had your ribs tightening down around your lungs. A question resurfaced from the bottom of your memory, curling up to slither coldly along the back of your neck. 

“Commander?”

“Hm.”

“Why, um--” You faltered. 

In truth, there was no reason for you to ask. The answer was already swimming around in your gut, acquainting itself with the sour feeling of dread that settled there. Waiting for your brain to analyze it while at the same time sitting in an insidious state of  _ knowing  _ that didn’t need to reach your head at all for you to feel its weight. 

You swallowed, and adjusted your grip. “Why a TIE fighter? Why didn’t we bring the command shuttle?” 

A pause. He reached around you, flicking a switch on the main console, and the Silencer’s headlights shuttered off with a resounding  _ click _ . “We may need to leave quickly.”

For the first time since leaving the  _ Supremacy _ , you felt something familiar settle inside of you. Deep and quiet, like the way sound doesn’t travel in space. It was the same, utterly instinctive feeling that took over every time you managed to get yourself in over your head-- when a negotiation turned volatile, when an unforeseen flaw surfaced in a mission strategy mid-execution. Those moments where the fixed parameters of your training ended, and the only thing left to take the pilot’s seat was your own intuition. 

But this time, there was something else there with it. It glowed within the powerful shroud of calm, thrumming quietly, filling you with something potent and restless and-- _ exciting,  _ that you couldn’t quite place.

Real, physical danger was not something you had much direct experience with. The various moral complexities associated with putting others up against it at your command, you had come to know well. But you were here now. Facing it in the flesh, not protected by the reinforced hull and ion cannons of a Star Destroyer. 

You were here, looking down on the dark streets of Corellia, a planet so lawless and foul and flat out fucking  _ dangerous _ that the First Order had all but given up establishing a presence here long ago. Even the New Republic’s ties here were thin.

A tightness struck through your chest as you very suddenly realized that it was only a matter of time, now, before you were going to have to--

“Drop lower.” The commander shifted to tap something into the nav console. A flight course lit up the holopad, leading to a destination marker just a few klicks ahead. “Land here.”

The sector you entered seemed somehow even darker than the rest as you brought the Silencer down over the shadowed streets, hints of crumbling walls and rusted vents just barely illuminated by the occasional weak street lamp. No headlights, hardly any ground lighting--you were no ace pilot, obviously, and it took your full concentration just to maneuver the ship between the vague silhouettes of broken antenna towers, avoiding them where their spindly shadows jutted up from the rooftops. You jumped when Ren’s hands enveloped yours again.

“Right here.” He guided your hands, expertly swinging the craft around and into a hover above a dim alleyway, empty and lined on both sides with large, abandoned-looking industrial structures. Your pulse jumped. He released your hands, a finger drawing your attention to a switch on your right, then flicking it casually. “Landing gear.” 

The hull rumbled and thumped. An array of green lights flashed to life in what you could only assume was an indication of the ship’s readiness for landing. If only you felt the same. Your hands were frozen on the controls, your mind simultaneously racing and completely blank. You waited dumbly for guidance, heart hammering, shallow little breaths trapping themselves high in your throat. 

“Relax.” Ren’s voice permeated to your bones as both arms slid around your stomach, liquefying your fear into a trembling plea. 

“P-please, Commander, I d-don--” You cut off with a shiver when his lips met your neck, his hips beginning to rock in a slow, enunciated rhythm that had your cunt immediately bearing down with need as you felt him harden. “ _ Fuck _ , p-please, I don’t know how t--... h-how to--”

Your eyes rolled back as a hand slid down between your legs, the leather pad of his finger finding your clit stiff and sensitive, its touch featherlight. A hum rumbled under your shoulders. “Your intuition, lieutenant. Feel it, don’t think.” 

Maker help you, there were a lot of things you could fucking feel right now. Namely, your commander’s cock slowly massaging your walls, lazy in its rhythm. Your grip on the controls banishing the circulation entirely from your knuckles. His fingers sliding down your slit, spreading as he reached the root of himself, shamelessly feeling the obscene way your body yielded to the thickness at his base. The lust that erupted low in your belly in response. The panic that was rising as you remembered your task, its sharp tendrils threatening to reach your head and overwhelm you. 

_ Control yourself _ .

A turbulent breath shook some air back into your lungs as your tiny inner voice of reason managed to surface again. Collecting yourself, you let it expand, pushing each distraction away one by one as it went.  _ Focus,  _ it reminded you.  _ Remember the card up your sleeve _ ,  _ get through this round _ . 

You tethered your awareness to the ship, to the curve of the controls against your palms, to the way they extended like a continuation of your own neural circuits to command the sleek metal beast encircling you. A steady, downward press of your hands, and it purred its obedient response, settling slowly towards the ground below.

“Good girl,” Ren said. “Just like that.” 

There was something--a tiny flicker of mischief in the shadows of his voice. Maybe you would have caught it quicker, but your tunneled focus left you one fatal step behind him, too slow to anticipate his move. His hand shifted, easily finding your raw clit against his fingertip, and pressed down--hard.

Electric. Everything was electric. Your vision doubled, the shredded remnants of your nerves shorting out and screaming against the paralyzing flood of sensation, ripping a ragged gasp from the bottom of your lungs.  _ Maker _ , don’t scream, don’t fucking-- 

A shift of his finger and your hips jerked, an involuntary movement of sheer desperation for escape that carried right through your whole body and into the ship.

One wing dipped to the side, and it was only the sharp trill of a proximity alarm that managed to blast through to what was left of your reflexes just in time. A curse cut the air through your lips, your shaking hands grappling the controls into a clumsy counter-correction that swayed the craft wildly as you wrestled it back to center. The rocking slowly stilled, the ringing in your ears no longer from the alarm, but your own pulse bludgeoning your temples. Ren simply chuckled, and released your clit.

“ _ Commander _ .” A few rapid blinks cleared the blur from your vision, but oxygen was still painful through the panic in your chest, leaving you frustratingly breathless. “With all due respect, sir, do you  _ want  _ me to crash your ship?”

“You won’t.” The smirk was audible in his voice. “Or is my confidence in your aptitude misguided, lieutenant?” 

A slew of unkind words lashed themselves to your tongue, fighting for freedom with the fuel of indignation that scalded your throat like bile, but you swallowed both, smothering your thoughts into silence. Stay calm. Maintain control. You drew a tight breath. “No, sir.”

“Mm. Good.” He rocked his hips firmly up into you, and a pitiful little noise clutched in your throat. “Then land my ship, and perhaps your proficiency will be rewarded.”

Desire shot up your spine like a flare, igniting at the base of your brain and rocketing your thoughts clear past apprehension and ahead to the promise of relief. It was enough to allow bravery to wriggle back into your fingers, your hands finding the wherewithal to resume their task even as your lungs stalled in anticipation of another distraction. 

But none came. 

The relief that flooded you was immediate and powerful the second you felt solid ground settle under the landing gear. The hull groaned around you as the craft came to a full rest, wheezing like a fathier after a hard gallop, and you, its master, just thankful to have survived the race. But there was one more hurdle for you.

“You know this part.” Ren gestured vaguely to the console, still alive with various lights and indicators, many of which, no, you certainly did  _ not  _ know anything about.

Your eyes darted back and forth a few times before it hit you. Of course. The ignition sequence.

Presumably, to shut the fighter down, you would just need to… to do it backwards? That seemed like the logical course of action, at least. Stars, how long ago had you even taken off? The  _ Supremacy  _ already felt like a faint memory, the edges of its shape scattered through a hazed prism, each facet reflecting nothing but incandescent pleasure and the blinding heat of Kylo Ren. 

But you had to remember. This was--you hoped--the final test, and there was no way you were going to fail. Maker, what was  _ wrong  _ with you, you were better than this, just  _ think _ . The last thing he turned on had been…

Thrusters.

Right console, three switches. Bring all of those down. The roar of the ion engines quieted, taking the vibration of the hull down to a faint rumble. Okay, good, next was--

Ignition. Yes, ignition: off. Much quieter now, and stars, when was the last time you breathed? Fucking breathe. Okay, next. 

Compressor: disengaged. Auxiliary last.

Everything went black as you killed the main power. Your breathing seemed to echo around in the stillness of the cockpit, your cunt twitching to life in acknowledgment of what was now pressing harder than beskar steel against your guts, amplified by the darkness. It was almost as if the power from the ship had never really shut down, but simply transferred into your own body instead, flicking your ignition switch and bringing your arousal roaring back to life with a vengeance.

Every line of the commander’s body against you was lighting up your awareness, filling the sensory void with his presence, the unbearable  _ stillness  _ of him. What had he meant when he said he’d reward you? You’d learned his lesson, yes, and passed every fucked up test he’d thrown at you to prove it. For that, you could commend yourself. 

But if there was one lesson more poignant than the rest, one that now stuck like thermal sludge to every crevice of your understanding, it was that his next move could come at any moment--and not always in a way you could anticipate. 

This seemed like one of those moments.

A shift of his chest under your shoulders made you jump, one arm reaching up somewhere you couldn’t see to flick a control, and the hatch cracked open with a hiss. The night air flooded the cockpit, all but drowning your racing thoughts as it drew in like a cool sigh to kiss the heat in your cheeks. Your head fell back, lungs gratefully accepting the damp and oddly foreign relief of atmospheric oxygen, even as the scent of it stuck in your mouth. It was thick, leaden with rain and crude fuel, but you hardly cared. It felt divine.

Beneath you, an impatient grunt and a single squeeze to your thighs brought you back to the present with a tiny flicker of alarm. 

“Out.” 

Your muscles froze. 

“But, I--” Whatever you might have expected out of this moment, that was possibly the last thing you could have prepared for, and your brain was fumbling spectacularly in an attempt to process the one word. 

Did he actually mean that? Was this another test? You didn’t even feel like you could move right now, let alone clamber out of the ship with your whole body aching and clenching as it was. And you were so  _ full _ , and he was so  _ hard _ , and now you were nearly trembling with need and--

And you took too long to act. 

Wide hands locked around your waist, and then everything shifted--he was picking you up. Holy  _ shit  _ he was strong, he hoisted you upwards in one effortless motion, throwing your world into a blur. The only thing you distinctly registered through your disorientation was the feeling of his hard cock pulling along your tired walls, finally popping free for you to flutter and clench around nothing for a moment before your bare ass came down on the lip of the cockpit. 

Cold metal bit your flesh, a harsh and unforgiving contrast to the warm lap you’d grown accustomed to.  _ Fuck _ , everything was dark. But hearing him shift underneath you had you hurriedly swinging your legs around to jump down.

And... the ground was a lot farther down than you thought. 

You landed hard. Hard enough for your knees to buckle, and you stumbled against the hobble around your thighs in a clumsy attempt to keep yourself upright. But before you could lose your balance you were moving again, being yanked by the arm and slammed back  _ hard  _ against the ship.

A huge, black mass crowded in on you, looming and pressing you back against creaking durasteel, the metal still warm under your shoulders as the ship settled from flight. Your heart slammed against the commander’s advance, eyes darting through shadow. 

In the span of a shared breath, his mouth crashed down on yours, open and wanting and  _ hungry  _ in the darkness, and everything inside of you detonated.

The heat of his mouth was dizzying. You mewled into it, the feeling of him so strong and warm and  _ everywhere _ , tugging at your hips, tongue sliding past your teeth. Your hands gravitated upwards for any leverage they could find just to pull him closer, to taste him deeper. A low, rumbling sound scraped the bottom of his chest and two huge hands encircled your wandering wrists, easily plucking them off of their feverish course and slamming them up beside your shoulders instead. 

His exploration of your mouth grew brazen as he pinned you open, crushing you against unyielding steel, even taking a moment to suck at your bottom lip before his hot tongue was licking deep into you again, stealing your breath and coaxing soft sounds from your chest in its wake. 

An immobilizing sensation locked your arms in place, keeping them tight against the ship even as his touch slid along your arms and around to the front of your torso. The extra sensations hardly even registered through the feeling of his mouth on yours until you realized you  _ still  _ couldn’t move while he was cupping your face with one hand, the other leather-encased palm flattening over the confines of your uniform, squeezing at the soft swell of your breasts hidden beneath. 

A low growl into your mouth, a shift of pressure up your sternum, and then his fingers found and curled over your pressed collar. With one purposeful tug, the material popped open, and you gasped.

"Commander," you broke the kiss, your head spinning as his breath immediately blazed against your neck instead. His movements were impatient, uncharacteristically clumsy in their urgency as you felt the material of your top continue to separate all the way down to your cleavage. “Commander, w-we--”

Fuck, it was impossible to think, everything in your brain felt thick with a vibrating fog. You could feel tiny points of rational thought trying to take form, trying to remind you of where you were, of why this was risky. But they were like infant stars peeking through a hungry nebula, unable to solidify before being swallowed again. 

"Fuck, w--” His tongue slowly rode the curve of your jaw, and stars, what were you even going to say? “W-we sho-shouldn’t-" 

“Shouldn’t what?” he purred, smooth fingertips trailing slowly down the bare plane of your sternum and sliding under the open edge of your coat.

A soft whine was all you could muster, broken thoughts dissolving on your tongue the moment he cupped the curve of your breast and scooped it free of your neckline, pushing the fabric aside to let your nipple peak up against the open air. 

The empty street was quiet enough that your breaths seemed to ricochet as they tripped softly over each other, sliding along the walls of the alley and joining the soft buzz of a flickering street lamp farther down. Stars, anyone could be listening-- watching, for all you knew. In a city like this, it was impossible to anticipate the stakes. Rife with the sorts of creatures who took refuge in shadow, even the darkness seemed to betray you, leaving every inch of exposed skin glowing as if the dim moonlight had suddenly adopted all the strength of a Tatooine sun. 

Your heart raced. You scrambled to clutch at the caution left within yourself, for any remaining instinct that would tell you that this was wrong, that you shouldn’t be going along with this. 

But you found no purchase. Your inhibitions were dissolving through your fingers-- dwarfed in Kylo Ren’s shadow, smothered under his hands, the power of his presence atomizing any need for your guarded reluctance and casting it into obsolescence. 

And as you surrendered, suddenly every eye that might be watching, every ear that could be tuned to your pleasure just around a shadowed corner, was like a hit of fucking spice. The thrill of it arched your back, coaxed bolder sounds from your chest that bounced daringly off of the bullet-scuffed duracrete to fade into the darkness of the alley.

Ren gave voice to it first, a growl breaking through the roar between your ears. 

“You’re enjoying this, lieutenant.” A swift yank of your undershirt revealed both of your tits to the damp air, and the chill of it settled wonderfully on the thin sheen of sweat that had gathered under your stiff uniform. The sigh that melted through your lips was as much confirmation as you could provide him. 

“Filthy thing.” His voice was a darkened hiss as he roughly took both of your breasts in his hands. “You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you? Right here in the fucking street.” 

There was no doubt that he could sense the pleasure soaking your thoughts with every passing second, the heat coiling up through your body, breaking you into soft trembles against the solid seams of durasteel.

Stars, this was wrong. 

But there was something about it--about being pinned up, shameless, tits bared and groped in the middle of a dirty Corellian backstreet like some cheap outer rim whore, that had you feeling freer and fucking  _ hotter  _ than you ever had in your life.

Yes.

He could do anything. Take anything. And right now, you’d fucking give it to him. 

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, head nodding in desperate submission as your fingers wiggled against their invisible bonds. It was like your body was coming alive for the first time, finally catalyzed to its transition state, now burning and shifting and  _ begging  _ silently for him not to fucking stop touching you. 

“I want to know, little whore--” His hand spread over your bare collarbones, the wide junction of a thumb and forefinger pressing the base of your windpipe. A gasping little moan left you as his lips brushed your jugular, heat striking up through your belly and all the way into your neck when his other hand urged your thighs apart to tease your slit. "I want to know just how far you can take me down this pretty throat."

Everything in you shuddered, and your unrelenting bonds were probably all that held you up against the sudden lack of support that your knees offered. Kylo Ren pressed the tip of one thick finger inside you, barely curling at your soaked entrance. 

“Do you think you can swallow my cock, lieutenant?”

“Fuck.  _ Yes _ , yes sir, please.” The breathless response left you before you even registered what you were saying, so thick was the need enshrouding your brain. It muddled your hearing, put everything else on a sensory delay to the pulsing heat that slid down and coiled up in your core.

And that’s why you almost didn’t catch the gritted command before the strong presence of his body suddenly drew away from you, leaving your head spinning. 

“Get on your knees.”

The Force evaporated from around your forearms. The loss of physical support nearly made you buckle, your body sagging against the fighter and leaving you to clutch at a ridge of metal for balance. You’d heard him, vaguely, but your brain still felt spectacularly slow. You were having trouble remembering which way was up, blinking against the low light, and the small hesitation was enough. 

In a flash of movement, his saber cleared the clip on his belt, cracking the air in two as it ignited in his hand and leveled to heat your neck. 

"Now.”

For a second, everything was extraordinarily still. Your lungs, your mind, even the faint drizzle of mist seemed to suspend in the air, vaporize around the searing plasma, and equilibrate into a deathly quiet.

The red aura vibrated in your immediate periphery, engulfing your retinas and casting everything around it in near-total blackness, unwavering in its proximity as the cold street pressed your knees. 

A very marked shift took place in the state of your awareness as you knelt, waiting-- feeling. Everything was hazy and warm before, but now. Oh, now, everything was hot, and  _ sharp _ . 

The snap of plasma echoing through the empty street sounded somehow both hushed and magnified. The gravelly bite of duracrete into your knees was both painful and electrifying. And all you could do was sit here and  _ accept  _ the way Kylo Ren drank you in, just hold absolutely still and let the tip of the saber rotate to your front, the light of it illuminating your bare chest.

And,  _ fuck _ . Oh, fucking Maker-- 

You were  _ wet _ . 

Every beat of your heart was an enunciated hit to your core, giving your arousal a wicked edge that cut into every last molecule of your body. Your cunt ached more with every pulse, and yet Ren just held there, his breaths shaking the damp air between you as he gazed at your naked tits under the light of a weapon that could kill you in half an instant.

You were possessed, the danger and thrill of it flooding your skin with intoxicating fire, and in a moment of what might have been either immense bravery or unfathomable stupidity, your hand began to move. 

Very, very slowly, it pulled along your belly, fingers twitching to splay downwards. The saber heated your knuckles, following as you guided it all the way to the apex of your thighs, where you paused. And then you sat back on your heels, spread your knees as far as they would go, and curled your hips forward, letting the crimson light gleam off of the wet shine of your cunt. 

“Fuck,” Ren rasped from the shadows, something delirious and urgent unearthing itself from the gravel of his voice. Somewhere beyond the snapping hum of the blade, you heard the slick sound of leather moving over flesh. “ _ Fuck- _ touch yourself. Sh-show me--”

But you were already moving. Your fingers slid into the wet heat of your folds, tender with arousal, the flesh plumped up from abuse. You dragged your slick all over yourself, spreading for him, pulling up to circle your neglected clit and letting out a soft sigh at the relief that saturated you in a deluge. 

The cool air did little now to temper the exquisite heat that flooded your body as you pleasured yourself openly for him, whimpering when you felt a familiar swell prime itself deep within you. It brightened with every practiced curl of your fingers, blooming outwards to rival the lightsaber that illuminated you steadily, and it wasn’t long before your thighs began to clench, your hips rocking against the movement of your hand while heady gasps punched your chest, that luminous heat coming closer and closer to a blinding apex.

You began to flutter, tightening with closeness, but the blade shot up under your chin, freezing you in the one movement. 

“Don’t cum.” 

Your heart slammed in your throat, every muscle locking into place where it was. You could feel errant sparks biting your skin, daring you not to move or speak.

And then darkness swallowed you, a hiss of steam resounding as the saber abruptly disengaged. The lingering imprint of it marred your sight, and you gasped when the whirl of movement in front of you turned into a large hand snaking into your hair, hips crowding your face, and the warm, solid length of Kylo Ren’s cock pressing against your cheek. 

You whined, stiff muscles liquefying as you turned your mouth towards it, moisture already welling under your tongue. But his fingers tightened at your scalp, stopping you.

“See what you do to me, little thing?” 

His other hand gripped around his base, letting the weight of his cock thump against your cheek once, twice. Fuck, he was so hard, and if you thought he was big before, it was even more obvious now that he was pressed right up against your face, so close to the soft heat of your mouth.

You nodded and whimpered, letting your cheek brush against his erection, still damp with your own slick. He rocked his hips forward, and the sheer breadth of his stature dwarfed you as he pressed in closer, until your face tilted and your jaw rested up against the hard plane of his adonis belt. Heat seeped into your cheekbone, radiating from the saber hilt strapped deftly back to his hip, like a warm sun to the earth and smoke of his body. 

An absolutely  _ crippling  _ wave of desperation crashed through you then, pulling an audaciously loud moan up tight through your chest that morphed into a pitifully sobbed out, “ _ Please _ .” 

The hand in your hair gave a firm tug until you were looking straight up his torso, the glint of his eyes just visible to your adjusting sight. He held you there, his strength commanding, voice slipping like dark matter through his vocal cords when he spoke. 

“Are you going to let this whole filthy fucking city hear what a little whore you are?” He rocked your head back and forth by your hair, turning your neck muscles to liquid. “Begging for my cock?” 

You bit your lip, too far gone to deny or assent. Perhaps caution would still be the smart thing, but stars--you didn’t fucking care any more. You’d let every wretched street rat on Corellia hear you beg for him, if it came down to it right now. 

Not trusting yourself to answer verbally, you simply let your mouth fall open so that your wet tongue could drag over the tiny slip of exposed skin above his groin, never once taking your eyes off of his shadowed face. Your reward was a thick groan and a twitch of his cock by your cheek, shooting a hot spasm into your core. Ren huffed out a tense breath. 

“Keep that fucking mouth open.”

He drew back and pumped himself, long and slow right in front of your obediently waiting tongue, black glove squeezing almost too roughly along his shaft until a thick bead of pre cum wept from his slit. Your brow pinched upwards as saliva pooled behind your bottom lip, threatening to drip down onto the duracrete, seep into a blaster hole and add to the memory that this roughened street would keep of you, so soft and wanting, incongruous next to its grit.

Ren stepped forward, obliterating your thoughts as finally,  _ finally _ , he rested his thick head on your tongue, removing his own hand and letting you test the full weight of him in your mouth. Your moan was almost a sob when you closed your lips and dragged your tongue across his frenulum, letting him feel you, swirling the pre cum from his tip before sliding him deeper into the hot depths of your mouth. 

“Fuck, good girl,” he hissed, resting both hands in your hair, but not controlling. You took him another inch, tongue working to lubricate your path, satisfaction unfurling when his chest heaved at the feeling. The taste of him shot a primal fire through you, equal parts sharp and masculine, the remnants of your own cum leaving a tang on your taste buds. 

Arousal careened through your belly, and you couldn’t help but dip your hand between your thighs, fingers finding your clit stiff and sensitive as your tongue passed over a thick vein.

But he caught your movement, and your hands were immediately wrenched upwards by an invisible strength, both wrists flying up and into the waiting grip of Ren’s palms. You squeaked.

“Impudent thing,” he growled, and wrapped your smaller hands around the base of his cock, securing your grip with a warning squeeze before carding his fingers into your hair again. “Keep them there.” 

You gave a tiny nod and a shallow whimper, briefly mourning for your aching clit yet almost instantly distracted again by a twitch of his shaft on your tongue. Relaxing your jaw, you took him further, letting him begin to feel the tight silk of your throat.

“ _ Fuck-- _ ” every muscle in Ren’s body seemed to go rigid enough to rival the durasteel frame of his ship, and his fingers clenched tighter into your hair. “Yes,  _ take it _ \--” he hissed as you slipped back an inch and enveloped him again, relaxing to take him deeper.

You found a steady rhythm like this, gradually acclimating to the feeling of intrusion. It became a little easier with each appreciative sound you drew from the commander, arousal permeating your body’s natural defenses and slackening them, even as your throat began to protest the moment you got about halfway down his cock.

But as hard as you tried to ignore the sensation of breathlessness, your lungs still screamed for air. You got maybe eight or nine good strokes in before your lips drew off of him with an obscene pop, slick hands taking over to work his length while you gasped a few starved breaths. 

It would have been easy to stay like this, jaw slack, lips plump and wet, simply marvelling at the hard and beautifully flushed appendage in your palms. But then a finger tapped twice under your chin, breaking your daze with a wordless command that struck an immediate response--your eyes flicked up. 

“Are you determined to test my doubts in your capabilities, lieutenant?” He laid a flat palm under your jaw and ran his thumb over your blushed lips, leather slipping lewdly over saliva. “Or must I teach you everything?”

Your heart struck your pelvic floor, dread and excitement charging up like a shot from a plasma cannon. “N-no. I--” Heat surged into your face. “I me-mean, I, uh--” Fuck, it was stupid to think you were somehow out of hot water. He expected more. Always, always, expected more, and now you were going to have to play your cards carefully. You swallowed against the thundering of your pulse. “I c-can take it, Commander, ple-please--”

“Can you?” He wiggled your jaw slightly in his palm, face tilting until a sliver of moonlight slanted across it like a translucent scar. You tensed, resisting the urge to shrink. “Or should I have selected someone more adequate?”

The plasma charge inside you flared, fusing atoms of dread into something deadlier with the affront. Your teeth gnashed, tension breaking your body into trembles under the strain of caution. “N-no, sir.” A muscle in his face twitched. “Please, I was... I w-was just--”

“Perhaps I should return you to General Quinn,” he said. “I’m sure he would be more than accepting of such inferior talents--”

You lunged, and in a single, smooth stroke, you swallowed his cock straight to the base, your body heaving its protest with a soundless convulsion.

A noise strangled in Ren’s throat, and a firm hand slid around the nape of your neck to hold you there, gagging and completely stripped of any capacity for breath. 

It probably would have been too much for you to handle, were it not for the hot sparks of indignation that quickly soldered each fissure in your resolve. Each one forced you to soften, to accept the agonizing incursion, if nothing else just to  _ prove  _ that you could. 

Relax.

Tears welled as you glanced up, funneling all of your willpower into sacrificing your need for breath. Movement was impossible with him holding you there, but the huge hand on the back of your neck spasmed, and your opportunity struck.

Doe-eyed, you gazed up and swallowed, letting your pharynx flex and ripple around the thick head of him just as hot tears spilled over to soak your cheeks, and one hand curled around to cup him by the balls.

You could almost hear something in him snap with the choked roar he let out, and it made your chest swell even as both of his hands coiled roughly into your hair and locked your head back. You met his stare, fire in your own, and gave him a challenging squeeze. In less than a second, your hands were no longer your own, seized by the Force and shackled down to your thighs, just before his hips drew back and oxygen smacked your lungs with a less than pretty sound. 

He gave you no time to recover before his cock was gagging you again, his rhythm punctuated and slow, each thrust forcing submission from your body. Gravel shifted under your knees as you trembled with all of the muscular tension that you redirected away from your jaw, the coarse pain of it serving as a welcome diversion from the intense sensation of having your throat fucked.

Relax. Control yourself.

Wetness began to streak your face, tears and saliva converging on your chin, and the vague thought shimmered in the back of your mind as to what you must look like right now: a slutty mess completely at your commander’s mercy, drawing choked breaths only when he allowed it, tongue fluttering soft and wet under his thick shaft while your clit fucking throbbed between your legs. But from the broken sound that Ren let out as he watched another violent gag roll through you, you’d have thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever witnessed. 

His grunt bottomed out into a snarl as one hand slid out of your hair, his palm turning outwards while two of his fingers began to curl in a salacious motion.

The fluid sensation of the Force coiled and rippled across your clit at his command, its motions just like your own fingers but even better, making your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Ren gave a knowing hum as your moan was choked down into your throat by another thrust of his cock, and a bend of his fingers sent a toe-curling rumble over your swollen bundle of nerves. 

“That’s it, lieutenant.”

The sound of his voice slid down your body, settling low in your belly where your orgasm was starting to simmer again. Even the ache in your jaw began to meld into your pleasure, making your head swim and buzz with the renewed promise of climax.

Ren’s breathing started to crack and falter, coming in half-formed curses through his ribs as he continued to steadily fuck your mouth, and it was clear that he must have been leaning on the edge of closeness for some time as well. You could feel it in the way his cock pulsed on your tongue, the way his stomach began to tense and flex.

Fuck, the thought of it--Kylo Ren, this grand enigma steeped in poise and brutality, a man who could obliterate life with a flex of his hand, was about to pull you apart by the threads, shatter you into pleasure with that same power and cum down your fucking throat. 

The wave of arousal that slammed you was almost maddening, and it was all you could do to flatten your tongue over your teeth and swallow thickly around his cock once more before everything was coiling up tight and fast inside you. 

His voice shot you to the precipice with a gritted out, “ _ Fucking  _ whore, let me f-feel you cum--”

There was a moment before it hit, like the way a seismic charge pulls in all of the sound around it into a single devastating point, and then with a choked sob you shattered, pulses of ecstasy ripping through your body while your cunt spasmed and wept its bliss onto the street with each unrelenting surge of the Force at your clit, wringing convulsions from you until you began to shake from the intensity of your orgasm.

You blinked the fresh tears from your eyes just in time to see Ren snarl above you, jaw tight and hips stuttering as the tension in his body threatened to snap, echoing in a rough pull of your hair. Pain seared your scalp as he pulled you off of his cock just in time for the first jets of his release to coat your tongue.

He groaned, a harsh sound that rivaled your surroundings in its sheer impurity, and he wrenched your head back further, working his length while thick ropes hit your open, gasping mouth, splattering your lips and chin with his bitter taste. He was grunting, swearing, panting through clenched teeth, and then--

Your name. Not your title, not a mocking belittlement of your rank, but your  _ name _ , cracked through his lips, a desperate sound half-buried in the delirious stream of filth.

Before you could even process what you just heard, he sharply released your hair and stepped back, your invisible restraints dissipating and leaving you to crumple over on yourself, gasping and trembling and painted in cum. 

Slowly, through the ring of pleasure and shock in your ears, you rubbed your sore jaw, before using your fingers to gather the warm mess around your lips. But just when you were about to slip them into your mouth, his voice stopped you, a graveled whisper from the shadows.

“Look at me.”

Breathless, you looked up, suddenly conscious of how plump and stained your face felt as the cool air began to dry the tears on your cheeks. Ren had already adjusted himself to decency, but your walls still fluttered with aftershocks of pleasure at the sight of his huge stature, swelling with deep breaths like a sated, black tide under the moon. You gazed at him in the dim light, holding his stare while you dipped your slippery fingers into your mouth and dutifully sucked the cum off of them, admittedly letting your tongue lick out along your knuckles just a little more than you probably needed to. 

Ren’s nostrils flared, and he took a few strides in your direction. When his hand came out towards your face you flinched, but he simply curled his fingers under your chin and slowly passed his thumb over a spot on your cheek that you had missed, expressionless as he pushed it through your parted lips. He watched you like this for the smallest moment before he drew away again.

Your mind felt blank; wiped and recalibrated by the staggering intensity of whatever your life had become over the past few hours. Exhaustion settled on you with the weight of a freighter. The one thing still tethering you to reality was the sensation of oxygen drawing in and out of your lungs, sweeter now than it had ever felt in your life despite the taste of grease and rust in the air. 

Stiffly, you began to readjust your clothing, pulling your undershirt and coat back over your breasts before beginning the painful process of climbing to your feet. As shaky and sore as they were, your legs somehow supported you, and you managed to wrestle your pants back up over the curve of your ass, only fumbling a little to secure them around your waist. 

For some reason it was only after you were covered again that you even thought to look around the alley, a brief pang of fear seizing your ribs, but it was just as still as when you’d landed. Just as empty, just as quiet. Maybe even moreso.

You glanced back around to Ren where he stood by the connecting beam of the ship’s wing, still and ruminative, a sleek device raised in his hand. After a moment, he pressed a button and spoke into it.

"Report."

A crackle of static peeled through.

“ _ Have eyes, dropping in, _ ” you could faintly hear the voice on the other end say, and a spear of alarm jabbed you back to sudden alertness. Ren's eyes flicked to you, his face stone. 

“Clear to land,” the commander returned through the commlink, before tucking it back into his pocket. 

Your heart pumped uneasily against your ribs, your face surely a canvas of confusion. Ren cast you a blank look before grabbing a metal ridge on the ship and smoothly disappearing into the cockpit again. 

Okay, this was getting unnerving. But the whine of an engine snapped your attention to the sky, where a standard-issue TIE fighter was descending with predatory swiftness upon the alley, its headlights killed, swooping into a hover just behind Ren’s Silencer. Half-shielded by the wing already, you recoiled instinctively into the shadow of it, as if you could find safety in the way it jutted forward like a protective talon.

You jumped when heavy boots hit the ground next to you again, looking up to see a masked Kylo Ren. He watched the other fighter land, standing silently as its cockpit popped open with a whisper of hydraulics. A shadowed figure leapt out, and you took a few steps backwards as it strode in your direction, vaulting the wing-support beam of the Silencer in a smooth motion before coming to a halt in front of the commander.

“Ren,” a dusky voice rasped through the tinny filter of a vocoder. He was masked as well, similar yet altogether different from the commander he addressed; rougher-looking, shrouded in strange black armor. As you stared, his head quirked, the mask tilting to settle on you. “Who’s this?"


End file.
